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Go, grieving rimes of mine, to that hard stone Whereunder lies my darling, lies my dear, And cry to her to speak from heaven’s sphere.

Petrarch

I desire that death find me ready and writing, or if it please Christ, praying and intears.
PETRARCH

Death Desire Finding Myself Ready
Often on earth the gentlest heart is fain To feed and banquet on another’s woe.
PETRARCH

Earth Enemy Heart
Man has not a greater enemy than himself.
PETRARCH

Enemy Greatness Himself Man
An equal doom clipp’d Time’s blest wings of peace.
PETRARCH

Equality Peace Time Wings
How quick the old woe follows a little bliss!
PETRARCH

Bliss Follow Old Quick
A short cut to riches is to subtract from our desires.
PETRARCH

Desire Ourselves Rich
Mere elegance of language can produce at best but an empty renown.
PETRARCH

Elegant Empty Language Production
It is more honorable to be raised to a throne than to be born to one. Fortune bestows the one, merit obtains the other.
PETRARCH

Born Merit Throne
For death betimes is comfort, not dismay, and who can rightly die needs no delay.
PETRARCH

Comfort Death Need Right
Ruthless striving, overcomes everything.
PETRARCH

Endurance Perseverance Strive
What name to call thee by, O virgin fair, I know not, for thy looks are not of earth And more than mortal seems thy countenances.
PETRARCH

Earth Known Moral Myself Name
Hitherto your eyes have been darkened and you have looked too much, yes, far too much, upon the things of earth. If these so much delight you what shall be your rapture when you lift your gaze to things eternal!
PETRARCH

Darkness Earth Eyes Forever Sight Yourself
I know and love the good, yet, ah! the worst pursue.
PETRARCH

Goodness Known Love Pursue Worst
I have taken pride in others, never in myself.
PETRARCH

Myself Pride
While life is in your body, you have the rein of all thoughts in your hands.
PETRARCH

Body Hands Life Thinking
Death is a sleep that ends our dreaming. Oh, that we may be allowed to wake before death wakes us.
PETRARCH

Death Dreams End Sleep Wake Up

Go, grieving rimes of mine, to that hard stone Whereunder lies my darling, lies my dear, And cry to her to speak from heaven’s sphere.

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Go, grieving rimes of mine, to that hard stone Whereunder lies my darling, lies my dear, And cry to her to speak from heaven’s sphere.

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Popular Authors

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